


‘I Want You To Stay’

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Theseus feels lonely, a mooncalf is injured but nothing graphic, but Percival and Newt are happy, give the man some loving, there is smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 16:32:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11062845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After Percival is found MACUSA doesn’t trust him anymore. But Theseus offers him a job at the MOM and to stay at his flat. And of course Newt makes an appearance.





	‘I Want You To Stay’

**Author's Note:**

> Written for some friends months ago. Maybe you have some fun reading it too.
> 
> Hmu on Tumblr (hellyesiamashamed). Keep in mind that this is my nsfw Tumblr.

After everything with Grindelwald and MACUSA not trusting him anymore, Percival reaches out to Theseus, asking for help. Of course Theseus immediately pulls all the necessary strings, gets the necessary permission for Percival to travel over by portkey, even gets him a job as his assisting Auror.

‘You can stay at mine until you find a suitable flat,’ Theseus says and smiles sadly at his old friend who nods in thanks. He prepares his guest room and Percival moves in. It’s easy between the two of them—they have lived in a tent together for four years after all. Living together in a big flat for some time until Percival finds something for himself shouldn’t be too hard.

They go about their day to day live, getting ready in the morning, apparating to the ministry together … It’s all fine. It’s all good. People don’t dare say a word against Percival, not with Theseus chatting away happily with him—his subordinates have rarely seen him smile and laugh that much. He usually is only this happy when his brother visits.

Speaking of Newt.

Newt usually stays at Theseus’ when he happens to be in London. So it’s no surprise when there is a knock on the door and when Percival answers, he has an armful of Newt pressed against him. That said. It wouldn’t be a surprise to Theseus as Newt never tells him when he visits. He just expects it. It _is_ a surprise to Percival though who takes a step back, so Newt stumbles over the threshold and nearly hits the floor.

‘What the fuck?’ Percival grinds out when Newt stares at him in confusion, takes a few steps back out of the door to look at the number of the flat and then comes back in.

‘Mr Graves?’ Newt asks tentatively and frowns. And it just _clicks_ in Percival’s brain as he looks Newt over. He’s a bit smaller than Theseus, more freckles, hair more auburn than blond, a tad more lanky.

‘Mr Scamander? Newt Scamander?’

‘Yes?’

‘Newton!’ There is a shout from the hall and suddenly there is a whirlwind of movement, shopping bags discarded on the ground and a laughing Newt is holding his grinning brother close to him, both Scamanders giddily happy.

‘I didn’t know you had someone over, ’Seus,’ Newt says and picks up his suitcase that he has put on the ground when he has greeted Theseus. Theseus introduces them then and it’s all a bit awkward, a bit tense. It would be odd if it weren’t that way after everything that happened in New York. But Percival and Newt get on well enough and Theseus leaves them to prepare dinner.

‘I’m afraid you have to sleep on the couch, dearest brother,’ he says during dinner. ‘Percival got your guest room.’

Percival immediately interjects, gentleman that he is, and offers Newt to sleep on the couch instead, leaving the guest room to him. But Newt just waves the offer away and tells them that he needs to sleep in the case anyways—one of the mooncalves has a broken ankle and he needs to be sure that it is fine. Theseus doesn’t argue but Percival opens his mouth to protest until Theseus just shuts him up by jamming a potato into his mouth.

‘Let him. He won’t change his mind,’ he explains to a choking Percival with an evil grin. Newt looks a bit concerned, wand at the ready, just in case if Percival is _really_ going to choke on the offending vegetable.

It’s a bit crammed now in the flat but none of them minds. Newt is in his case most of the time, tending to his creatures and especially the injured mooncalf. And the Aurors are at the ministry for nearly the entire day, coming home in the evening, tired and ready to fall into bed.

Newt stays longer this time, wanting to make sure the mooncalf is fully healed before he sets off again. Theseus doesn’t mind and Percival doesn’t either—who would he be? He is a guest at Theseus’ himself, not even paying rent. Of course he has offered Theseus to pay for his part but his friend has waved his offer away and has told him if he bought food once in a while it would be okay. ‘I don’t want to take advantage of a friend in need.’

It’s quiet for a week and a half but it has to happen eventually. The niffler escapes. Of course it does. The little pest. And suddenly Percival finds his precious pocket watch missing. He doesn’t know the niffler has it until he sees the culprit rummaging through the silverware of Theseus’ kitchen.

‘What the—’ He starts and the niffler looks up in alarm and hurries to get away. Percival follows. He has to admit it isn’t easy to catch the little beast and sooner or later he finds himself next to Newt’s suitcase, the niffler having squeezed in already. It takes a few minutes of gathering his courage but eventually Percival opens the case.

‘Mr Scamander?’ He shouts and a muffled voice tells him to come down. He descends the stairs, closing the latch after he gets in. And then he is standing in a small shed, Newt nowhere to be seen—wait. There he is, sitting under his workbench, holding the niffler upside down by the ankles and shaking it, scolding it while shiny stuff falls out of its pouch.

When he sees Percival, he smiles brightly. ‘Mr Graves! I told you to call me Newt, didn’t I? Please,’ he says, still smiling and shaking the niffler until a familiar pocket watch makes its way out of the pouch. ‘Ah,’ Newt says and catches it before coming out from under the workbench and holding it out to Percival, a sheepish expression on his face. ‘I think this is yours?’

He then throws the niffler gently out of the shed, a last warning (‘Don’t you dare do it again!’) calling after it. He then apologises profusely to Percival who has trouble hiding a smile until he bursts out laughing, telling Newt that everything is fine. Theseus has told him about the niffler and he has expected it to happen at one point. Newt looks even more embarrassed.

There is an awkward silence between them for several minutes and Percival thinks of leaving and waiting for Theseus to come back from his meeting with the minister but Newt has other plans. ‘Do you want to see my case?’ He blurts out and Percival is taken aback. He considers this offer for a torturing minute and Newt seems to slump in on himself, opening his mouth to apologise and to say that it was a stupid idea but Percival accepts. And Newt beams.

Percival is mesmerised, his eyes darting everywhere, taking everything in and Newt explaining every little detail to him. Percival is mostly fascinated by the charmwork that went into creating such an environment but he’s also awed by the creatures, even though he takes a step back when he sees the nundu. But Newt only laughs and tells him to stay while he himself walks slowly over to the beast, not startling it and then petting it gently. And the nundu rolls on its back and presents its belly to Newt who laughs and scratches it for a few minutes before moving on, waving Percival to follow him.

They are visiting the mooncalves next, Newt explaining that he has to look after the injured one. ‘They are really friendly and shy. If they come to you, scratch them behind the ears. They love it,’ he says softly and Percival follows him through the nightly part of the case, the moon shining brightly above them. And there they are. Small and fluffy and bouncy with such big eyes and Percival feels himself melt a bit while he pets a younger one behind the ears like Newt has told him.

In the meantime Newt has walked over to a mooncalf lying under a tree, looking at them with big, sad eyes. Newt crouches down next to it, examining its leg, murmuring soft nothings to keep the animal calm. Percival walks slowly over to them and sits down next to Newt, watching every movement. It’s truly fascinating how the man tends to the animals. ‘Can you hold that down?’ Newt asks quietly and gestures to the new bandage he is applying and Percival nods. He holds down on the bandage so Newt can tie it together. He could have easily done it with magic but, he explains to Percival, this mooncalf gets frightened if magic is used on it. And Percival is even more fascinated how Newt knows every single one of his creatures, knows what they need, what they want. And not only what their species needs but what every single individual needs to be happy. He truly cares for them.

And Percival feels something warm bloom in his chest and he can’t bring himself to look away from Newt.

It’s already late when they leave the case, Percival has helped with feeding the animals and he is sweaty and dirt is smeared on his clothes and his skin but he can’t bring himself to care. This was good. He feels good. Working with his body and not with his magic—he hasn’t felt so alive in weeks.

Theseus has fallen asleep on the couch and Percival smiles down at him while Newt puts a finger to his lips and tucks a blanket around his brother. Theseus doesn’t stir. He must be very exhausted to not wake up, Percival muses. He knows that Theseus normally would be awake within the second if he feels as much as a breeze grazing him.

‘Do you want to take a shower?’ Newt whispers and Percival nods. He should. He feels filthy but in a good way. It doesn’t take long until they are both clean and heading to bed, Newt taking his brother’s room. ‘I need to sleep in a real bed for once. The cot is killing my back,’ he admits when Percival asks him why he doesn’t sleep in his case like the other nights. He shrugs. Works for him. He can’t shake off the small voice that whispers in his ear to ask Newt to share the guest room bed. But he doesn’t react to that.

The next evening Percival finds himself again down in the case and eagerly helping Newt, doing the chores the younger man asks him to do. It’s good, bodily work and it exhausts Percival in another way than doing all the tiring paperwork at the ministry. They do this every evening, coming up later to find Theseus eating alone or reading a book or sleeping on the couch again—as if he has waited for them. And he probably has and Percival feels guilty.

‘I’m sorry,’ he apologises the next morning but Theseus just shakes his head and shoots him a tired smile. And a knowing look. Percival’s stomach lurches. He wants to ask what Theseus is thinking but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to admit that there is _something_.

‘Don’t hurt him. Please,’ Theseus says quietly, barely audible, and Percival feels himself nodding before he can comprehend what has just been said.

Before he can act on his slight confusion Newt stumbles into the kitchen, an apology on his lips while he slumps down in one of the chairs and begins to eat. They ease in a comfortable silence, Theseus shooting his brother concerned looks when Newt is not looking his way.

It’s comfortable with the three of them together but the day the mooncalf is healed completely is getting closer and Percival knows Newt will leave again. And he himself should really search for a flat of his own now. He has bothered Theseus for far too long. ‘Idiot. You could never bother me,’ Theseus says and shakes his head, smiling. He doesn’t say that he wants Percival to stay because it feels far too lonely living here all by himself. He has loved the month his brother has been here and the two months Percival has stayed. But he doesn’t say it.

It has gotten late and Percival is still down in the case with Newt, the other man tending to the previously injured mooncalf. It is healed completely now but Newt reminds it with a stern voice to not overdo it with its ankle. They leave the night area and walk down to an open field, green grass swaying beneath their feet, their shoes discarded at the shed hours ago. Newt tugs at his shirt arm and leads him to a tree and sits down. Percival lowers himself next to Newt and sighs. This is it. Their last evening together. He hasn’t known how much he dreaded this moment.

‘You are leaving tomorrow?’ He asks, his voice low, looking at the grass at his feet. The sun in the case is just setting, showering everything in golden light. He knows how Newt looks under this light—breathtakingly handsome. So he doesn’t look at him. He can’t.

‘Yes, I think so. Need to talk to Theseus first, but yes,’ Newt answers, equally as quiet. Silence hangs between them and Percival begins to pick at the grass, plucking it until there is nothing left but an earthy spot. He feels movement next to him but doesn’t look up until there is a weight pressed against his side, warmth seeping through his thin shirt. Now he _does_ look up.

Newt is so close, their noses nearly touching. And then there is a calloused hand at his cheek and he closes his eyes, leaning into the touch and sighs. He is sure that Newt’s hand leaves a streak of dirt on his face but he doesn’t care. He is sweaty and filthy and that’s _normal_ down here after an evening of tending to the creatures.

‘You don’t want me to leave, do you?’ Newt asks, voice steady but low, a whisper against Percival’s lips, and he shakes his head. No, he doesn’t want him to leave. He really doesn’t.

And then Newt kisses him. It’s a soft press against his lips and he gasps in surprise, his hands coming up to cradle Newt’s face gently, holding him in place. It’s nothing heated, nothing with want and lust but sweet and tender and two bodies pressing against each other, drinking in each other’s warmth and closeness.

When Newt leans back, Percival wants to follow but stops himself, his eyes fluttering open. ‘You are still leaving, aren’t you?’ He asks, his voice nearly cracking with emotion. _Nearly_.

‘Yes, I’m afraid I will,’ Newt answers and pulls him close to place a chaste kiss on his lips. ‘But I will be back sooner or later.’

‘And maybe you will find someone else,’ Percival responds and he can’t ban the bitterness from his voice. But Newt places his hands gently on both sides of Percival’s head and coaxes him until he looks him in the eyes. And that’s it. Newt who usually avoids eye contact at all costs looks at him as if he is the most precious person in the whole universe and these muddy green eyes bore into his. And Percival can’t help himself and pulls him close against his chest, feels hands grabbing his back, a face burying in the crook of his neck.

‘I will come back.’ Newt’s voice is muffled and Percival nods.

‘I know.’

 

 


End file.
